


stay where I can see you

by thingsyoumissed (orphan_account)



Category: Panic At The Disco, Wilco
Genre: M/M, can't believe I wrote this, drummers, total insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thingsyoumissed





	stay where I can see you

Glenn's pretty sure there's some kind of hero worship at play here; this kid tucked flush against him, with strong wrists and calloused hands and loose hips like trademarks of their profession, sure is easy on the eyes. His voice has just the right edge, the kind that pushes about six of Glenn's buttons at once, and he's telling some tour story with that voice and those hands and those hips. Glenn's barely listening to the actual words. Instead, he's making a mental list of all the things he should be saying to the kid.

His list goes like this so far: _I know this is an official festival party, but are you even old enough to be in here? Are you even old enough to be pressing against me like that? Are you wearing girl jeans? Could you maybe slip your thigh between mine, yeah, like that? Are those flowers on your shirt?_ The flowers he could live with, really, come on, Jeff's worn a white sequined suit with roses all over the goddamned thing, but at least Jeff is well over the age of consent. Glenn turns a little and gestures for the bartender and the kid slides into the gap, and no, he hadn't planned that at all. 

Fresh beer in hand, he turns back, so that his arm is forced to kind of curve around the guy's back, and maybe his whole body is forced to fall in line. "What's your name again?" he asks over the music.

Blue eyes narrow just a little. " _Spencer_. And for not catching it the first two times, I think you should have to buy me a drink."

"Yeah?" And the kid - Spencer, Spencer, got it - nods. Glenn turns towards the bar. This is a game he thinks he might want to play, except his hotel room is all the way across town, so he might have to play it just a _little_ safer than he'd like. "One for my friend!" he shouts, and slides a twenty across the smooth wood. 

Their fingers touch when he passes Spencer the beer. "Thanks," Spencer says, and rubs his thumb over the back of Glenn's hand, looks at him over the open mouth of the bottle, those eyes flicking down and up again, to pause on his neck, his lips. It's louder than words. Glenn smiles, and then he drops the hand that's resting on the bar down into the dark behind Spencer, and brings it back up again, but underneath the ridiculous hooded sweatshirt Spencer is wearing. Spreads his palm over the small of Spencer's back, two fingers tucked underneath the waistband of those incredibly low jeans. 

He leans in close and sees Spencer's lips part, but instead he says, "Can you believe there's music festivals for rock drummers?" in the most conversational tone he can muster, as though he's not stroking warm pale skin, not pressing his thigh into Spencer's very obvious erection. 

"They're always so... enlightening," Spencer replies, and _damn_ if Glenn honestly can't tell if he's being serious or not. 

He brings his mouth closer to Spencer's ear. "I think we could possibly get some enlightenment somewhere else," he murmurs. He finishes his beer and heads for the side door, not even looking to see if Spencer is following him, aiming for someplace, anyplace dark outside. 

There's a trailer parked a little way off, just outside the pool of light cast by one of the parking lot lamps. It's enough cover for what Glenn wants to do. He reaches out and finds Spencer just to his left, and says softly, "You're going to get on your knees and I'm going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, and I hope your band doesn't expect you to sing tomorrow."

"I don't sing," Spencer says, and drops to the ground.

"Have you done this before?" Glenn asks. Spencer looks up at him, his eyes impossibly blue in the dim light, and his gaze clearly says _you did not just ask me that_. Glenn grins. Spencer unbuckles his belt, pops the button on his worn jeans, makes short work of the zipper. His cock is in the kid's hand before he can even smirk, and then Spencer's mouth is on him. Wet and still kind of cool from the beer. Glenn groans, his head tipped back against the trailer. He winds his hands through Spencer's hair, pulling. 

Spencer is slow and thorough in his touches. He traces the vein with the tip of his tongue, then licks his way back down. Presses wet kisses to the base, cups Glenn's balls in his hand. Swirls his tongue around the head, licking away the drops of moisture and then probing the slit, making Glenn moan over the blood rushing in his ears and pull harder on Spencer's hair. He's pretty sure he's never gotten a blowjob quite like this before, a boy he's never seen before today on his knees for him in a fucking _parking lot_.

Spencer pulls back. "I thought you were going to put your dick down my throat," he says huskily, and Glenn growls and pushes his cock back into Spencer's mouth. Spencer sucks hard, his cheeks hollowing, before tipping his head back just a little, taking him further in. His mouth is warm now, and Glenn presses his fingers hard against Spencer's scalp, urging him further. Spencer moans, more vibration than sound, and Glenn sucks in a harsh breath, looking down, memorizing the sight of his cock being swallowed up by Spencer's soft pink mouth, those blue eyes closed, lips wet and red, tongue working. 

"Open your eyes before I come," he instructs, brushing a thumb over Spencer's temple. "That's your warning, so decide now if you want to swallow or if you want me to come on your face." Somehow he manages to get all the words out without losing it right there, but he's close, and Spencer humming around his length before pulling off is almost enough to send him over the edge. 

"On my face," Spencer whispers, wraps his hand around Glenn's wet cock, and _works_. Three strokes and one rough pull, and Glenn's _gone_ , tugging Spencer's face closer so that he streaks those lips. He keeps his eyes open the whole time, watching, gasping. 

Spencer wipes his hand over his mouth, then licks his fingers. "Christ," Glenn breathes. "Are you still-" Spencer nods. "Take your cock out and touch yourself," Glenn tells him. "I want to see you come." He doesn't have to tell Spencer to hurry. Spencer's jerking himself before Glenn has even caught his breath completely. His head's still spinning. "Slower," he says.

"Or what?"

Glenn looks down at him. "I think you know what I'd like to do with you," he murmurs, keeping his voice even.

"Tell me," Spencer breathes, his hand moving faster despite Glenn's instructions.

"I think first I'd tie you up," Glenn says, and Spencer moans. "I can just imagine what you look like under that fucking flower shirt and those jeans. Pale skin just begging to be marked."

Spencer whimpers, and Glenn can see he's trying to slow down, stave off what's fast approaching. "Don't you dare stop," Glenn tells him. "I didn't tell you to stop."

Spencer licks his lips. "What else?"

"After I tasted every inch of you? You wouldn't be able to move."

"Would you fuck me?"

Glenn leans down, so that his lips brush Spencer's ear. "So hard," he breathes. "After I made you beg for it."

Spencer lets out a shuddery moan, his face going slack, his head falling back. Glenn wraps his hand around Spencer's, guiding his last few strokes, and as he swipes his thumb over the head of Spencer's cock, Spencer hisses his name and comes all over their fingers, making little gasping noises. 

Glenn squeezes him one last time and then wipes his hand on the napkins he'd stolen from the bar, watching Spencer try to get his breath under control again. After a minute, Spencer glances up at him and steals the napkins from his grasp. Glenn leans back against the trailer as Spencer cleans them both up, swiftly, businesslike. When they're presentable again, he pulls Spencer back up off the ground, and steers him towards the bar. "I'm getting drunk," he says. "Possibly tequila. You up for that?"

Spencer drops the napkins behind him in the dark. "I'm in," he answers.

"Enough liquor, and you'll forget my name," Glenn tells him. He ignores the flash of hurt in Spencer's eyes, and looks instead anywhere but his face.


End file.
